


Estimated Recovery Time

by futuresoon



Series: Loosely connected stories about Sho Minazuki [3]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3786757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuresoon/pseuds/futuresoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a while to recover from a year-long coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Estimated Recovery Time

He wakes up and everything is _wrong._

This isn’t his bed. He’s been in the medical area before, but this isn’t one of those beds, either. There’s too much equipment around him. He does recognize a heart rate monitor--some of the endurance tests had one--and this one is beeping frantically. There’s a boxy video screen up in one of the room’s corners, but it seems to be turned off. 

He can hear voices behind the door. _Hear_ voices. He’s only seen Ikutsuki and the opponents, and they were always in the room, they didn’t say anything before they came in and most of them couldn’t say anything after they left. But now there are voices and they’re talking about--

A woman rushes in wearing strange clothing. Wouldn’t it constrict her movements? Strange color, too. 

“Everything’s all right,” she says. “You’re in Inaba Municipal Hospital. Don’t worry. You’re okay, Minazuki-kun.”

How does she know his name? There were other people at Ergo Research, Ikutsuki told him so, but he never needed to meet any of them, so he didn’t. Is she one of them? Inaba. He doesn’t know that name. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but only a rasping sound comes out. Is he--no, he can breathe, but his mouth is dry, and talking is difficult. There’s a needle in his arm. He’s been on an IV before, when tests went badly, so did a test go badly? 

He doesn’t remember.

Another woman and a man enter the room. The second woman is dressed the same way as the first, but the man is wearing a long coat. He knows what those are. Ikutsuki wore them sometimes, when he said he was just dropping by to see him and wasn’t going to stay. They weren’t white, though, and they looked thicker.

He tries to sit up.

He can’t. He can’t move. He can’t _move_ he can’t he can’t he can’t he doesn’t know where he is or what’s happening or who these people are _he can’t move_

there is something stirring in his mind 

“I’m administering a sedative,” says the first woman. “We need to lower his heart rate.” She’s putting a needle in his other arm. The frantic beeping of the heart rate monitor slows a little, then a lot. His mind is growing cloudy. He can’t sleep now, he…

He falls into unconsciousness anyway.

When he wakes up, his mouth isn’t dry anymore. The monitor is beeping steadily. The first woman is in the room again, and she smiles when she sees his eyes open.

“Welcome back, Minazuki-kun,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

He rolls his tongue around in his mouth. Talking might be easier now.

“Like shit,” he rasps.

\---

They treat him like a child at first, or even younger, speaking slowly with small words. When he asks them where the fuck this is, they apologize and say they’d expected some brain damage, from someone who’s been asleep so long.

So he asks them how long.

A year, they tell him. That’s how long it’s been. February 1st, 2010. Ikutsuki always told him when a new year was starting, but months, days…he’s read about them, in the books Ikutsuki gave him sometimes, but he never knew when they were happening. Day and night. That’s all that mattered.

_Can February March? No, but April May._

“Your birthday’s coming up,” the first woman tells him with a smile. “Sixteen, huh?”

He stares at her blankly. “Birthday?” he repeats.

“February 8th. Do you not remember?”

Ikutsuki never told him when he was born. He said he didn’t need to know.

Sho doesn’t answer. She makes a sympathetic face. “Memory loss isn’t uncommon in coma patients,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

The last thing he remembers is taking some medicine and going into a machine. That’s all.

He doesn’t tell her that, and, oddly, she doesn’t ask.

He can move a little now. The man told him his muscles had--atrophied? Weakened, the man clarifies--but with physical therapy, he’ll be able to walk again. Sho isn’t sure if he should ask him about fighting. Nobody’s mentioned it, and if they haven’t, then maybe they don’t know. Maybe they’re not supposed to. Nobody’s mentioned Ergo Research at all.

The only explanation he can think of is that Ikutsuki sent him here so he’d be safe while he recovered from whatever it was that happened to him. Once he gets better, Ikutsuki will come take him back. He’s too valuable to just be abandoned, so he’ll go back. Maybe it won’t take very long. He hopes so.

He’s not going to tell anyone about the thing slowly stirring in the back of his mind. It feels important that they don’t know.

The first woman tells him her name is Sayoko Uehara.

The only names he knew were Shuji Ikutsuki and the characters in the books. 

She tells him his father brought him here.

If Sho could get off the bed, he’d be grabbing her by the collar, but he can’t, and all he can do is demand, “Where is he?”

She looks oh so sympathetic as she tells him his father passed away two months ago. 

Everything is _wrong._

He screams at her until she administers another sedative.

\---

Physical therapy starts the next day. It’s slow, methodical, and awful. Another--doctor, he’s discovered, Uehara and the other woman are nurses but the first man was a doctor and so is this one. Sort of. He’s heard of doctors, but never seen any, and doesn’t know what nurses are at all. He doesn’t know if only women can be nurses and only men can be doctors. Ikutsuki was the only one who gave him any medicine. This doctor, or maybe therapist, carefully helps him move his arms and legs up and down, slowly, gently, humiliatingly. Nobody’s touched him besides Ikutsuki, before. Or the opponents, but not like this. He doesn’t like it.

They haven’t brought him any food, and Uehara tells him it’s because he can’t eat on his own yet. The IV is feeding him. That makes sense; your body is broken, a medical thing helps. That’s happened. He understands broken bodies.

So far, he’s met four people: Uehara, the other nurse (Ono), the first doctor, (Takagi), and the second doctor (Kosaka). Uehara is there the most often. He can still hear voices from outside the room sometimes, but he can’t quite tell what they’re saying, and he doesn’t get more than a glimpse of what’s out there when the door opens and closes. It shows as much as the sliver of a window on the door does: a gray wall on the other side. There are other people there, he knows.

Uehara’s kindness is too saccharine to be real. Ono is too skittish, uncertain what to do with him; he thinks she might be new. Takagi, who only briefly stopped by again, seemed distant, occupied with other thoughts. Kosaka treats him like a child. They all grate on his nerves, and at first he couldn’t even tell why they were doing this, if they didn’t know about Ergo Research or what he was.

Uehara tells him his father left him a lot of money, though, and Sho understands people doing things for money. Ikutsuki talked about how Ergo Research had invested a lot of it in him and didn’t want to see it go to waste. Some of Ikutsuki’s money is going to the hospital. All right. It makes sense that they’d want to fix him, now, if he’s apparently paying them to.

But that doesn’t mean they _like_ him, which is fine, because he doesn’t like them either.

The large window on one side of the room is shuttered at night, but Uehara asked him if he’d like it open in the day, and he’d said sure, why not. The view outside only shows a green field with sporadic trees and mountains in the distance. He’s never actually been outside before. The facility didn’t have windows. He’d never really thought about it before now. There’s so much space, beyond the window. More space than any room he’s been in.

He could probably break the IV stand against something. Then he’d have a spear, sort of, and if the rest of the hospital is like the ones he’s met, it wouldn’t be hard to carve a swath through them and get out. What he’d do once he was out…well, he’d find something. Ergo Research must be somewhere out there.

He can’t break anything if he can barely move, though. And he won’t be moving much any time soon.

Three days in the hospital and he’s never been more bloodthirsty in his life.

On the third night, the stirring in the back of his head finally coalesces into…something.

 _Hello,_ it says. He, rather. It’s a male voice.

“…hi,” Sho says cautiously. “Who’re you?”

_I’m not sure. You’re Sho Minazuki?_

“Yeah.”

_Is that the name you go by? They call you Minazuki-kun._

Sho’s mouth twists. “My dad called me Sho-kun,” he says.

_So you are Sho, not Minazuki._

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

_Then I’m Minazuki._

“Okay,” Sho says, for lack of anything else. He doesn’t feel afraid. Curious, mostly. “Where’d you come from, anyway?”

_You, I think. Perhaps. I don’t remember anything else._

“Perhaps,” Sho parrots. Then he realizes--“You’re not a Persona, are you?”

_I don’t think so. Personas don’t talk. And they have their own names._

“Oh.” Sho stares at the far wall. “My dad really wanted me to have a Persona.”

Ikutsuki talked about it a lot. How important it was that Sho get a Persona. Sho isn’t even really sure what Personas _are,_ other than something that fights Shadows. He’s not really sure what Shadows are, either. 

Ikutsuki tried a lot of things, to give Sho a Persona.

Once, when he was a lot younger, Ikutsuki took him aside and calmly told him their current working theory on what created a natural Persona was severe mental distress, and would he please step into this room?

It hadn’t worked. Neither had the second try, or the third try. After a few days, Ikutsuki said they were putting aside that theory for the time being, and Sho could have a break for a little while for being good.

Sho can’t think of a reason not to, so he tells Minazuki about it. 

Minazuki is silent for a while. Eventually, he says, _Your father was not a good man._

“Don’t be stupid. He taught me a lot. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

_That is exactly my point._

And Sho’s about to prepare a retort when he just briefly wonders, for the first time he can remember, if it was really all that necessary to keep that test going for three days instead of one.

A lot of what he learned about broken bodies came from that test.

“…whatever,” he mutters. “If you’re not going to be useful, just go away.”

_I don’t think I can._

“Then just stay quiet.” 

Sho can’t really do anything besides sleep. It rankles at him; he’s slept plenty, and he’s not used to having so many hours of it every night. He should be doing something.

There’s something he’s been wondering about, though. The past two nights, he fell asleep too early to tell, but if he can stay awake long enough tonight…

There’s a clock on the wall. It ticks down the minutes, agonizingly slow. 11:57. 11:58. 11:59…

…and the dim lights in the room stay on. The heart rate monitor continues its steady beeping. No green, no red, no sensation like your ears popping.

The Dark Hour is gone.

The Dark Hour is _gone._ If the Dark Hour is gone then maybe Shadows don’t exist anymore, maybe nobody needs Personas anymore, maybe there’s no more fighting and Ergo Research is doing something else now and they don’t need him anymore no one is coming for him he can’t ever go back home--

\--the heart rate monitor beeps faster and faster--

\--and Minazuki says, in a calm, clear voice, _It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay._

And it’s strangely comforting, how he says it. Like he means it. Like the only thing that matters is that Sho is okay.

Sho breathes in and out slowly, steadying himself. The monitor calms down. 

_That’s right. You’re doing fine. There’s nothing you can do about it right now, so rest. We’ll figure out what to do once you recover._

“…yeah,” Sho mumbles. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s strange, how falling asleep doesn’t feel so frustrating, when he knows Minazuki will be there when he wakes up.

\---

Minazuki knows a lot more about things than Sho does, for some reason. If he doesn’t understand something, he waits until no one else is around and asks. Which is how he discovers that the weird color on the nurses’ clothes is called _pink,_ and the video screen in the corner of the ceiling is called a _TV,_ and nurses don’t always have to be women, and doctors don’t always have to be men. 

He’d heard of those things, too. But he had no visual reference for them. They weren’t important.

He still can’t move, or at least not much. It gnaws at him every waking minute. What kind of shape is he going to be in when he gets out of here? He’s never gone a day without some kind of training before.

But what would there even be to fight? Maybe no more Shadows. Not that he ever actually fought those in the first place. He was training so he could fight Shadows when he got a Persona; mostly he fought people. Other kids, when he was a kid. When he started getting a little older there weren’t any kids around anymore, and Ikutsuki moved him up to people who were a little older than him, but after a while there weren’t any of those around anymore either, and eventually Ikutsuki started sending adults. 

A few times, Ikutsuki’d put him in a room with a big animal, and those weren’t so hard. Swords worked on them easy, even if their claws almost got him sometimes. Ikutsuki seemed bothered by those tests, said they were approved by people who were used to testing something called Anti-Shadow Suppression Weapons. Not humans. Apparently those things were easier to fix than he would be.

But Sho hadn’t really cared. It was what he was supposed to do, right? He always did what he was supposed to do.

And now he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

The nurses and the doctors don’t _get it._ Sho’s pretty sure he’s not allowed to tell them anything, but they seem to have been told he was some kind of soldier in training. Uehara looked a little sad when she said it was a shame he couldn’t focus on his education instead.

“What do you know?” he’d snarled at her. “Don’t treat me like a kid. Get out of here!” She’d apologized and left, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.

“What kind of education was she talking about?” he asks Minazuki, later that day.

_Math, history, reading, writing, that sort of thing._

“I can read,” Sho says sullenly. “I know math. I’m not _stupid.”_

_There are a lot of words you don’t know, and the math Ikutsuki taught you is basic. I don’t think he intended you to spend more time in civilian society than was absolutely necessary._

“How do you know all this stuff, anyway? I thought you came from me?”

_I don’t know. Maybe I came from somewhere else first._

“Yeah? And where’s that?”

_I don’t know._

“So I’m not the only one who doesn’t know stuff,” Sho says, a little more smugly than he should. “You’re not so smart after all.”

_Perhaps. Kosaka is coming soon, you should get ready._

Which mostly means ‘try to calm down so you don’t snap at him again’, but it doesn’t work, so Sho isn’t sure why Minazuki even tries at this point.

\---

Physical therapy goes painfully, _painfully_ slow. It doesn’t get any less humiliating, either. Sho fantasizes about kicking Kosaka in the face. He can’t decide if he’d rather break his nose or knock out his teeth, though.

“How much longer is this gonna take, anyway?” he asks Kosaka one day, while Kosaka’s helping him flex his fingers. It wouldn’t be hard to go for the throat or the eyes.

“That depends,” Kosaka says. “You’ve been making progress.” It doesn’t _feel_ like he’s made progress. “For someone of your age and physical condition, it might be a few years before you’re completely back to form.”

A few--

 _Don’t,_ Minazuki says sharply. _This won’t help you. It won’t make you feel better, either. Calm down. Breathe._

Sho breathes hard through his clenched teeth. Minazuki has a point, but--he’s never been any good at controlling his emotions, Ikutsuki liked it when he got angry, he can’t just _stop_ now--

 _Let me handle this._ And there’s a strange sensation like he’s being pushed back, somewhere, not roughly, just slid out of the way.

He tries to open his mouth to speak. Nothing happens. For a moment he’s utterly terrified, can he not move _at all_ now, what’s happened--

“Okay,” he hears himself say, but it’s not his voice. It’s his mouth moving, but that voice is lower, calmer. Kosaka looks up in surprise, but doesn’t say anything, and goes back to his work.

Sho knows that voice. _What’re you doing?!_ he hisses, and doesn’t make a sound.

Put two and two together. He’s not in control anymore. 

_Minazuki!_ he screams, mentally banging on the door of his mind. _Let me out!_

The therapy continues with no interruptions whatsoever, despite Sho’s screams. He stops eventually, knowing that it’s not having any effect. All he can do is seethe in silence.

Finally, finally, Kosaka finishes for the day. “You’ve been quieter than usual,” he says with a smile. “Feeling better?”

Sho--Minazuki--manages a shrug. “Maybe a little,” he says.

Kosaka raises an eyebrow at the lower voice again, but says goodbye and leaves, closing the door behind him. As soon as he’s gone, Sho yells _What the fuck are you doing?_

“You were going to make things difficult for yourself,” Minazuki says calmly. “I helped, that’s all.”

_You took over my body! How can you even do that? Put me back!_

Sho tries pushing at whatever invisible barrier there might be in his mind. He can feel something on the other side, but he can’t get there.

“Are you going to start screaming again? They don’t like it when you do that.”

 _I don’t give a damn what they like,_ Sho snarls. _I’m just a nuisance to them anyway._

“Well, the screaming doesn’t do you any favors, I’m afraid,” Minazuki says wryly. 

_Of course I’m mad! I’m trapped in a room where I can barely move and morons who probably couldn’t wield a knife if their lives depended on it keep coming in and bothering me. My dad’s dead, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, and I can’t ask anybody, because they’re all fucking civilians. What about this situation isn’t gonna piss me off?_

Minazuki sighs. “I can’t change anything about that,” he says. “But staying angry all the time is going to make you sicker. You might have to stay here longer. Or they might have to start giving you more medicine. They’ll visit you more often, and maybe they’ll even bring in another kind of doctor to talk to you.”

Sho mentally slumps. _I just want everything to go away,_ he mumbles. _I want to get out of here and go somewhere where stuff makes sense._

“I don’t know if there are any places like that for you, anymore,” Minazuki says. “And even if there were, I don’t think it would be a good idea to go to them. You don’t need anyone else like Ikutsuki.”

_What do you know about my dad? You weren’t there. You didn’t see any of it._

“Maybe not, but you’ve told me enough that I have a good idea,” Minazuki says. “How’d you get that scar?”

_It was a mistake. I didn’t move fast enough._

“What did he do when you got it?”

_He told me to wipe the blood out of my eyes and keep going._

“What did he say the first time you killed someone?”

_‘Very impressive, Sho-kun.’_

“Why do you know more about knives than you do about colors?”

_What’s your fucking problem? He made me strong. I could kill anyone in this hospital. If I had a Persona, I could kill anything. I’m a hell of a lot more useful than some random kid._

“Most people do not judge a kid’s value by how ‘useful’ they are.”

_Shut up! Just shut up! You don’t know anything! You’re just a voice in my head! Why can’t you just go away? I never asked for you! I never asked for any of this! I wish everything would just disappear!_

Sho wants to tear something apart. The machines, the beds, the doctors--anything in this place would do. He’s so furious he can barely think straight, but he can’t do anything about it, even if Minazuki gave him control back he wouldn’t be able to move, everything’s gone so horribly wrong--

“You can yell all you want,” Minazuki says. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if I could, I’m not going to leave you.”

Sho doesn’t know what to do about any of this. Tests and training were so much easier than this pointless, helpless existence. 

He wonders what dying would be like.

“I’m going to stay in control until you calm down,” Minazuki says. “Okay?”

_Like you’re giving me a choice in the matter._

Minazuki cracks a smile at that, for some reason. “All right,” he says.

They stay in silence for a while longer. Sho isn’t good at calming down.

Eventually, he says, _My dad gave me these joke books. He liked it when I said stuff from them._

“Oh?”

_Yeah. Like, did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He’s all right now._

“That does sound like the sort of joke your father would want you to make.” 

_Oh, shut up._

Minazuki smiles anyway.

Stuff like that helps, sometimes. Not always. But sometimes.

The rest of the day doesn’t go so badly.

\---

Days pass. Weeks. He can sort of move his arms now, though his fingers aren’t up for lifting anything heavier than a piece of paper. It’s progress. Kosaka is a little impressed; he says it usually takes even longer than this, for people who were asleep as long as Sho was.

It’s still not enough. It’s maddening, not being able to do anything. The one small light is that Uehara brought in something called an e-reader, a small machine that doesn’t need anything besides slight finger movements to operate. He can do that. She’d asked him if there was anything simple he liked to do, and the only thing a civilian would think was simple that he liked doing was read, so he told her that, and then she brought it in. It was a new way of reading books, she said. Easy. 

She propped it up on the tray in front of him and did something that made the text on it bigger, and showed him how to use it. Not hard. And then he had more books than he’d ever seen in his life, right in front of him on a screen.

 _The world is much bigger than the one you lived in,_ Minazuki says. _Care to learn more about it?_

Well. It’s not like he’s doing anything else.

A few finger taps gets him something that looks like the stuff Ikutsuki gave him; war stories, things about people fighting, things he could learn from, if only a little. Sho’s learned by now not to expect anything to be like his old life. Stuff that might seem familiar might be very different, if it was made by people who lived in this bigger world.

Minazuki helps with the words he doesn’t understand, so he ends up devouring books about wars he’s never heard of. 

The settings are utterly unfamiliar and seem to rely on a basic knowledge of events he just doesn’t have, but it’s a hell of a lot bigger than anything he was ever given.

And so he starts, slowly and a little awkwardly, learning sort of what it’s like to be a real person.

Which doesn’t stop him from being confused when Kosaka shows up wearing a shirt with a color Minazuki informs him is called _purple,_ but he’s getting there.

\---

As time passes, Sho decides Uehara isn’t _terrible._ Kosaka, Ono, and Takagi are still frustrating, but Uehara is at least sort of nice to him, which is…weird. Ikutsuki was nice to him. Uehara is nice in a different way, though; she doesn’t ask for anything in return, besides occasionally reprimanding him for his continual “behavioral issues”. (Minazuki only steps in when it gets _too_ bad.)

Her smiles seem more real than they did at first. He sort of wishes she was the one handling his physical therapy instead of Kosaka. She seems busy, though, a lot of the time. He knows he’s not her only patient, but he feels a little bothered by it anyway. How many people are in the hospital? Surely not _that_ many.

He ends up asking her about it. “Only a hundred or so,” she says. “People are pretty healthy in Inaba. Cleaner living, I suspect. Not much pollution out here in the sticks.”

Pollution. He knows that word. He’s not so sure about ‘out in the sticks’, though. “Is Inaba a small place?” he asks.

Uehara’s eyes widen just a little, and her lips quirk up. “Well, yes, of course. Didn’t you know that?”

He glares at her. “No. That’s why I asked.”

Uehara’s smile softens. “That’s right, you haven’t been outside,” she says. “It’s a nice enough town. Not many trains from here to the larger cities. But the air is clean and there’s not much noise. Honestly, I’m surprised your father sent you here, instead of someplace bigger. We do our best, but we’re not an especially advanced facility.”

Sho stares out the window. “I don’t know either,” he says. “Maybe it was close.”

He doesn’t know where the facility was. He doesn’t know where anything is, really. The books don’t have maps. 

“Minazuki-kun…” Uehara starts, then stops. After a moment, she says, quietly, “Your father told us not to ask any questions about you, so I won’t pry. But you seem like you’ve lived a very sheltered life. I wonder where you’ll go when you leave us.”

Sho wants to say, _you and me both._ But he doesn’t want to admit it, even to her. That would make it too real. He knows, on an objective level, that he’ll have to go _somewhere,_ but it’s too frustrating to think about. Wanting to leave doesn’t mean much if you don’t know where to go.

He turns his head to the side, away from her. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters.

“I just want to say that Inaba is a peaceful place,” Uehara says. “It might be good for you to stay here. I don’t know how much education you have, but we have a local high school that we could get you into. You could have a nice life here. Quiet, yes, but I think you might need that.”

He doesn’t know what to say. All he wants to do is go back to the way things were, but that probably isn’t possible. He might not ever be as strong as he was. He might not even be needed anymore. 

_She makes a good point._

“…I’ll think about it,” Sho mutters.

Uehara beams. “That’s all I ask. Now, how are you feeling today?”

Not as awful as usual.

\---

He has enough mobility in his hands that he can feed himself now, so they take him off the IV. He does find himself looking at it with a touch of longing--it really would make a decent weapon if he broke the stand--but he feels a little more human now that he can do something as simple as eat without assistance.

Literary culture is informing him that hospital food is supposed to be mediocre at best. It tastes about the same as what he ate at the facility, though, so maybe that means he’s just used to it? He wonders what ‘good’ food is supposed to taste like. 

In the books, people enjoy eating. It’s always been more of a regular bodily function to him. You eat to stay healthy, that’s all. He’s never been especially interested in taste. None of the food at the facility was ever rotten or spoiled in any way, so it didn’t taste _bad,_ he doesn’t think.

Suddenly, he has a memory of being very small. He doesn’t remember that sort of thing very often. A table in a warm room, and a bowl of something hot and savory, and other faces…

Sho knows he wasn’t born at the facility. But he didn’t used to remember anything from his life before coming there, and until now, he hasn’t been interested in it. Ikutsuki said his early life wasn’t important. He does remember being angry, and then being happy, because being angry was a good thing, and being sad wasn’t. He was stronger when he was angry. Ikutsuki liked that. 

Other faces.

February 8th can’t possibly be his real birthday. 1994 might not even be the right year. He might be sixteen or fifteen or seventeen or anything, for all it matters. But it must have mattered once. He must have had parents once.

Did they have red hair? Everyone he’s met at the hospital has black hair. The opponents were all black or brown. Ikutsuki’s sandy color stands out, but it’s still another type of brown. One of Sho’s parents must have had red hair, or maybe both. He doesn’t really know how it works, but he’s pretty sure it’s something like that.

Other faces, and food that wasn’t in the facility. A warm light unlike any of the lighting he’s seen either at the facility or the hospital. 

_Maybe you’ll go back there someday._

Sho snorts and takes another bite of rice. “It’s probably gone,” he says, after he swallows. “I bet Ergo Research didn’t want anyone to remember me.”

_Perhaps. But it’s nice to think about._

“Whatever.”

He wonders if the other kids ever tried to remember stuff like that.

“Hey, y’know…” he starts. His mouth twists. “There were a lot of other kids at the facility,” he continues. “I don’t know if I met all of them, even. All the ones I did meet, I fought, and some of them I killed. Maybe the rest killed each other the same way. I never talked to any of them. We just fought each other. Teenagers, too. I just wonder if, y’know. Any of them got out.”

_Perhaps. You did, after all._

“Yeah, but I don’t know how I got out. Maybe I just got sick or something.”

_Maybe Ikutsuki wanted to get rid of you._

A chill runs down Sho’s spine. “That’s bullshit,” he says. “He liked me. He said so.”

_He said a lot of things, didn’t he._

“He wouldn’t--he wouldn’t just throw me away, I did everything he told me to. I never lost to anything. I must’ve been the best one he had.” 

_But you didn’t have a Persona. No matter what he tried, you weren’t good enough for that. Perhaps he decided he didn’t want to bother with you anymore if you couldn’t give him everything he wanted._

Sho clenches his teeth. “Are you _trying_ to piss me off?” he hisses. But a little flicker of paranoia is starting to set in, now. What if…

_I’m trying to figure this out. He must have had a reason to leave you here. Ergo Research would have come looking for you by now if they still wanted you. If you really were so favored by Ikutsuki, there must have been something about you he disliked enough to send you away. The only thing I can think of is that you don’t have a Persona._

Sho has to resist the urge to curl up or put his hands over his ears or anything stupid like that that wouldn’t change anything besides make him feel like a kid. Not that he did that when he was a kid. Very often. Most of the time.

Ikutsuki had always looked so disappointed, after an experiment failed.

And Minazuki keeps going, damn him. _I’m not saying it’s a good reason. I’m just saying it’s a reason. And there has to be a reason._

There does, doesn’t there. Ikutsuki wouldn’t just leave him. He wouldn’t. But he did, so…there must have been something. 

What if--

It’s the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it.

All those years--almost his whole _life--_ and it just wasn’t enough for Ikutsuki. He must not have mattered to him at all. Or maybe he did, once, but after too many failed attempts, Ikutsuki grew less attached to him. Sho wasn’t so useful anymore. Just another kid. 

Another kid like the other kids who stopped being there. How many were there? How many times did Ikutsuki try to give them Personas? Did he try the same things he tried on Sho? 

The things Sho is starting to admit to himself were really shitty things to do to a kid. Or to anyone.

Ikutsuki was nice to him, sort of, maybe, in a way, or at least it seemed like it, because Sho didn’t have anything to measure it against. But Uehara’s nice to him without following it up by asking him to do something that ended up hurting a lot or hurting other people a lot, and people in books are nice to each other sometimes too, and his head hurts.

Books aren’t real. Uehara’s getting paid for it. Sho was _useful_ to Ikutsuki.

Wasn’t he?

_Sho? Are you okay?_

Sho’s chopsticks snap in half. It’s all too much. There’s too much stuff in his head, information conflicting with emotion and he never had much information but he always had emotion but emotion isn’t helping and everything is wrong but nothing was really right to begin with and if he’d had a Persona would he still be at the facility or maybe when Ikutsuki died he’d have died too and he doesn’t want to be dead but being dead would be easier and

The food tray and bowls are made of thick plastic, so they don’t shatter when they hit the wall, but they make a loud enough noise that another nurse opens the door to see what’s happening.

That makes the fifth person Sho’s met here. She looks as worried as Uehara did the first time he saw her, and as nervous as Ono when she sees the mess, and she’s another person who isn’t Ikutsuki or an opponent, and Sho buries his face in his hands and tries not to scream but doesn’t succeed all that well.

\---

They end up bringing in another doctor after all.

\---

Seito is a kind-looking man who has brown hair and glasses and calls him Sho-kun, and he leaves after about two minutes, because glasses are expensive and he probably doesn’t want to have to buy new ones after every time he visits.

Sho’s arm strength and reflexes are improving.

\---

Uehara comes in after that, her face tight. “Minazuki-kun,” she starts, and at least she didn’t say Sho. “I’ve already talked to you about your behavior several times. If you keep acting out like this, it’s going to be difficult to treat you.”

 _“Acting out,”_ Sho repeats in a disgusted voice. “Just go ahead and admit it. I’m trouble for everyone here. I’m the crazy kid who would probably have tried to kill someone by now if I could walk. Everyone’s lives would be so much easier if I just disappeared.”

She looks faintly alarmed, but her mouth tightens into a hard line. “That’s not true,” she says. “You’re our patient. We want you to recover. But it’s hard for us to do that if you won’t let us.”

Sho tightens his fists in the blanket. Her throat is wide open. If she got close enough…

_She has a point. How much longer do you want to stay here?_

“Shut up,” he growls, mostly to Minazuki. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want to look at you.”

But Uehara doesn’t seem to be in the mood to apologize and leave like she always does. “What didn’t you like about Seito-sensei?” she asks.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. We can’t treat you if you don’t know what’s wrong. Does it bother you to have us think there’s something wrong with you?”

 _Think_ there’s something wrong? The whole world’s wrong; the only tolerable things in it aren’t real. He knows he’s fucked-up, but at least he can admit it. Everyone else is under the delusion that they’re okay. 

The only person in his life was a monster. What kind of a world must it be to make someone like Ikutsuki? How many more of him are out there? People who seem to be nice? Ikutsuki threw him away, and he _liked_ him. He was useful. People who don’t even have that as a reason to tolerate him won’t care at all.

“Minazuki-kun, please answer me.”

He squeezes his eyes closed. _“Just go away,”_ he snarls.

“Minazuki-kun, you are in a very complicated situation. Because of your condition, we can’t just restrain you until you heal. We don’t have the means to bring in another psychiatrist. Since your only contact is deceased, we have no one to contact about you. If you become violent again, our only option is to send you to another hospital that can take better care of you.”

More people. Doctors poking at his mind as well as his body. 

_If I may._

Sho doesn’t even resist as Minazuki slips into control. He doesn’t know how to deal with any of this; might as well let someone else try.

Minazuki opens his eyes. “I’m sorry, Uehara-san,” he says quietly. “Things are just…confusing. I can’t talk about it.”

Uehara raises her eyebrows. “Evoking your father’s mandate?” she asks. “Well, I suppose it’s your right. But your father is dead. We’ve decided that if we feel it’s getting in the way of your health, we have no compulsion to follow it. If need be, I can ask you any question I want.”

“But you can’t make me answer,” Minazuki says wryly.

“I suppose we can’t. Regardless, we will do everything we can to help you. Please, let us.”

Minazuki’s a good actor, Sho thinks. Whatever’s on his face right now must be projecting some real vulnerability, because Uehara’s face softens and she gives a slight smile. “Get some rest,” she says. “We’ll talk to you more tomorrow. Just remember that all we want is to help you.”

She leaves, closing the door behind her. Minazuki exhales. “They really are very persistent,” he says.

 _Don’t I know it,_ Sho mutters. 

“Sho…” Minazuki’s mouth twists. “The way I see it, we have two options here.”

_Yeah?_

“You can do what they tell you and avoid lashing out at people who are trying to help you.”

_Or?_

“Or I can take over permanently and do that for you.”

Sho’s stomach plummets. _No no no, I want to stay me, what if--what if we get stuck like that and I can’t come back at all? What if I start to disappear? We don’t know how this works!_

“Then keep it in mind. You’ve never been able to take control from me unless I let you. If I decide you’re not capable of taking care of yourself, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Minazuki’s voice is deadly calm. Suddenly Sho feels just a little afraid. He still doesn’t know what Minazuki is, but he knows Minazuki doesn’t care about anything besides him. How far would Minazuki go to keep him safe?

_…I just--I just don’t like it here. I want to go somewhere where nobody can bother me._

“We can do that. But that’s not going to happen until you can walk out of here on your own, and you can’t do that yet. If you can’t deal with the current situation, I’ll handle things myself. Otherwise, you might never get out of this place.”

Sho feels very small as he mumbles, _I’ll do it. I can handle it._

“We’ll see. For now, she said you should rest. I think that’s a good idea.”

Ever since he came here, Sho’s had to deal with being trapped in his own body.

He hadn’t realized how literal that could be.

\---

Seito doesn’t come back, and Kosaka is as patient as ever. Uehara seems to feel sorry for him more than anything else. Ono never gets within arm’s reach more than is absolutely necessary. Takagi makes a few cursory appearances, but seems content to leave most of the work to Uehara. Either he’s a bad doctor or a lazy one, Sho decides. He isn’t sure which is worse.

Bland, pitying, scared, and uninterested in his own patients; they haven’t done much to improve Sho’s opinion of them. But he’s careful anyway, tries to be quiet, tries to stay still unless he’s not supposed to. Minazuki’s always there. 

Sometimes he watches TV, since he can use the remote on his own now. But the actors are too fake and the news is always either annoying or boring. Bad things happen around the world. Well, he’d figured that. The cheerful smiles of the announcers in happier segments don’t look real at all. He can’t decide which is worse, a depressing truth or an enthusiastic lie.

Even the books are starting to wear thin for him. But they’re all he has, at this point; there’s nothing else to fill the long hours besides physical therapy and nurse visits. It’s that or go stir-crazy. Well. More so.

Physical therapy does at least take a turn--he can stand now, a little. Not for very long. But there’s enough muscle strength in his legs to at least let him try.

It’s been six months. Apparently this is considered excellent progress, since he couldn’t move at all when they started.

Kosaka says they might be able to take him out of the ICU (ICU--they’d explained that name to him, _intensive care unit)_ and into a different room for therapy soon. Sho tenses at the thought; on one hand, that would apparently mean he’s getting better, but on the other hand, that would mean even more people. Just getting through the halls would be a trial. How many people work at the hospital?

A hundred patients, Uehara said.

Sho doesn’t think he’s ever been in a room with more than four.

But it’d be a different room, at least. He hasn’t left this one in six months. The bed, yeah, but he’s never gone past the door. He wonders what it looks like out there, in that microcosm of humanity. Are there more windows? More of a view of outside?

He wonders what it’s like outside. Warm, probably; it’s well into August now. Humid. He’s read a few books that have Japanese summers in them; humidity seems to be a common theme, especially in rural areas. He’s read about cicadas and school breaks and going to the beach. None of them appeal much.

He _does_ know how to swim, at least. There was a small pool at the facility. Ikutsuki thought it was a good idea to ensure his prize weapon wouldn’t drown.

Just thinking about Ikutsuki puts a bad taste in his mouth, so he tries not to. No need to risk getting too angry.

Which, itself, doesn’t exactly make him _happy,_ but he swallows it down anyway, hoping a low burn won’t flare up. He can do this. He’ll claw his way out of this hole no matter what it takes.

But he needs to walk first.

So he grits his teeth and lets Kosaka help him into a wheelchair and go to the other room.

The hallway proves to be the same gray he could see through the door’s window. There are handrails on the walls, and a long bench. Nobody else is around. The large window shows the same scenery as usual. He doesn’t get a closer look at it, though.

They have to go through another hallway to get to the elevator, and there are a few people in there, sitting on a bench next to a door and talking quietly to themselves. They glance over when they see him, looking a little interested; it must be the scar, he realizes. Hard to miss it.

“What’re you looking at?” he growls. They quickly look away. Minazuki doesn’t comment, so little stuff is probably okay, Sho thinks. Good. 

Kosaka is less forgiving, though. “Now, now, be polite,” he says. “They didn’t mean anything by it.”

Sho glares at him. “I’m not a freakshow,” he says. “They should mind their own damn business.”

“Maybe so, but there’s no need to be rude about it. Mind the bump.”

There’s a little bump in front of the elevator. The wheelchair jolts; Kosaka wasn’t all that gentle. “Hey!” Sho says, irritated. “Be more careful, would you?”

_Sho._

“…never mind,” Sho mumbles. He stays silent on the short trip in the elevator. 

The door opens into another gray hall. There are more people in this one, some on benches, some standing and talking. They make way for the wheelchair, and Sho’s teeth are on edge when he hears someone whisper “I wonder if he’s from one of those gangs” behind him.

At least the therapy room is empty. Of people, anyway; there’s exercise equipment, a set of handrails, a short set of stairs, a slightly wilted potted plant, and a cot off in a corner. Warm light comes through the windows on the outer walls. 

“Here we are,” Kosaka says. “Let’s start with the handrails for now.”

It _hurts._ Sho knows pain, but this is a different kind; an ache down to his bones, a feeling of utter weakness. Every muscle strains. He’d much rather a broken rib than this.

It’s embarrassing, how quickly he gets out of breath. Standing feels like the most exhausting thing he’s ever done, and trying to take even a few steps is torture. Therapy back in his room wasn’t fun either, but it was mostly on the bed. Here, he has to struggle just to stay upright.

He collapses more than once during the session. Kosaka’s patient encouragement just adds fuel to the fire; Sho can’t help telling him to shut up a couple times. Minazuki seems to understand the strain, though, and doesn’t say anything.

When it’s finally over, he feels like he’s spent a full day in an endurance test, except those were sort of fun, and about proving how strong he was rather than a harsh reminder of how weak. This isn’t a test of power. This is an exercise in humiliation.

But he has to get through it. He _will_ get through it, if this is what will get him out of here. He’s endured things far beyond the pale of what these doctors have seen. This is not going to stop him.

Back in his room, Minazuki says, _Good job in there. Keep that up and you’ll be out of here in no time._

“It’s still gonna be months,” Sho says bitterly. “Maybe another year. They don’t know how long.”

_Still, you’re moving forward. So to speak._

Sho closes his eyes. “Whatever,” he mutters. “I’m going to sleep.”

Sleep has never come quickly. He didn't get much in the facility; you always need to be ready in case of danger. Even now, when things seem safe, he can't quite overcome the lifetime of training. And, of course, there was the Dark Hour; he always had to stay up for that. It's hard to get used to that absence, too. Ah well. At least the bed feels more comfortable now that he’s gone without it.

\---

The new routine starts. Kosaka always takes him to the therapy room instead, and the trip doesn’t get any easier; people’s eyes are _always_ drawn to him, a scar that covers almost his whole face and bright red hair to boot, and maybe they don’t always whisper about him while he can hear but he knows they will once he’s out of range. No, he _isn’t_ from a biker gang, and he isn’t from the yakuza either, and it could admittedly be argued that he’s some rich guy’s troublemaker son, but not the kind they’re thinking of.

“You know, you were quite the mystery here when you were in a coma,” Kosaka tells him once, while they’re taking a break to let Sho catch his breath.

“Yeah?” Sho asks, between heavy breathing. “They think…I was…yakuza…too?”

Kosaka laughs. His laugh is always too high-pitched; it grates on Sho’s ears. “That was one of the theories, yes,” he says. “You must admit, a man coming in with an unconscious scarred teenager and promising to pay the hospital whatever they needed for his care so long as they didn’t ask any questions _is_ suspicious.”

He hesitates. “…you aren’t, right?”

Sho glares at him.

Kosaka laughs again. Sho’s eye twitches.

“That, and we couldn’t determine what your illness actually was,” Kosaka says. “Your father also forbade any x-rays or MRIs, so all we had to go on was what we could immediately see, and you appeared to be perfectly healthy. It was frustrating, honestly. We could only assume brain damage of some kind, and since we couldn’t do any sort of scan to check, well…” He shrugs. “It remained a mystery, like I said.”

Sho frowns. Why would Ikutsuki do that? But it isn’t like he can ask him, is it.

“Then you finally woke up, and there didn’t seem to have been any change. One moment you were asleep, the next you weren’t. And your cognitive functions seem more or less all right.”

“…more or less?” Sho asks, suspicious.

Kosaka blinks. “Well, the increased aggression. Didn’t Takagi-sensei talk to you about that?”

Sho’s irritation rises. “No,” he says. “He didn’t…talk much…at all.”

“Hm. I was told they were still looking into the possibility of brain damage.” Kosaka shrugs. “Personally, I think it’s understandable that a young man would be frustrated in your condition. But the brain isn’t my specialty.”

They think something’s wrong with his head? And they haven’t even told him?

 _This is new,_ Minazuki says grimly. _I think we should talk to Uehara the next time we see her._

“Anyway, I think that’s enough of a break,” Kosaka says. “Let’s get back to work.”

The raw pain of trying to convince his pathetic body to take even two steps forward is only amplified by his rising fury.

\---

“What’s this about _brain damage?”_ Sho asks, eyed narrowed, when Uehara enters his room later that day. “Kosaka said you guys think I’m only pissed off because there’s something wrong with me?”

Uehara sighs. “Kosaka-sensei is not fully informed,” she says. “Yes, we’re still considering it. At first, your behavior was to be expected, but as time passed and it only worsened…Minazuki-kun, please understand that we only want to help you.”

“You keep saying that, over and over,” Sho says. “But if you guys are stupid enough to think that the only reason I get mad is because of _me,_ not you, then--”

“We’re only exploring our options,” Uehara says firmly. “If a patient displays high levels of aggression and our only theory as to why they came here in the first place is because of a brain injury, it makes sense to assume the two may be related. We haven’t told you yet because we weren’t sure how you’d react.”

Sho doesn’t even care about Minazuki right now, he just wishes Uehara was close enough that he could strangle her, her and Takagi both if they’re just pitying him for being the poor kid who just can’t help being angry, everyone in this damn hospital who’d rather think there’s something wrong with his mind than with the world--

His fingers clench. If she came just a little closer--

Minazuki slips forward. “I’m sorry, Uehara-san,” he says, in his usual calm voice. “It’s just a little frustrating.”

Uehara makes an odd face. She holds onto her clipboard a little tighter. Carefully, quietly, she asks, “Who am I talking to right now?”

Minazuki instantly retreats and pushes Sho to the forefront. _Tell her you don’t know what she’s talking about,_ he hisses.

Sho’s face contorts. “Whaddya mean? Are you stupid or something? Sho Minazuki, idiot!” he says, trying not to shout. Fear rises in his mind. What does she know? What does she think she knows?

“Often, when you seem like you’re about to be angry at me, you shut down and your voice drops,” Uehara says, still careful, still quiet. “And that’s the only time you say Uehara-san. Usually, you just say Uehara. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you apologize in the voice you have now. Why did you change it so suddenly?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Sho says, pushing down the rising panic. “Why are you bothering me about it? Back off!”

Uehara’s face doesn’t change. “Theories, that’s all,” she says. “Mood swings aren’t uncommon. Perhaps that’s it.”

“Just shut up,” Sho snarls. “You don’t know anything.”

Uehara’s face seems a little sad, now. “Very well,” she says. “I suppose this isn’t the time to ask you how you’re feeling?”

The rest of her visit is tense. Sho doesn’t know what to say to her, or how to act around her, or anything. What’s suspicious? What might tip her off?

When she finally leaves, Minazuki says, _We have a problem on our hands._

“No shit,” Sho mutters. “Do you think she’s going to do anything about it? Tell Takagi or something?”

_Not unless she has more evidence, I think. She doesn’t have much to go on. But if she gets enough to convince someone more important that you need psychiatric help for a multiple personality disorder, they’ll take you somewhere else. And you won’t just have to deal with physical therapy. The situation would not be preferable._

“You got any ideas what to do here?”

_We probably couldn’t kill her without being caught._

“…yeah, so that’s out.”

Minazuki makes a frustrated noise. _There’s only so much I can do to protect you,_ he says. _I don’t like it, but that’s how it is. For now, I think our best option is for me to stay quiet. Other people might notice the voice change too._

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, use a different one?”

_Can you?_

Sho sighs. “Life’s a mess, isn’t it,” he says.

_If I can’t step in as often, you have to be able to control yourself. I may not be able to help you. Can you do that?_

It’s weird. A few days ago he might have welcomed more freedom, less worry that Minazuki might take over for good if he messed up. But now the possibility of going in without a backup isn’t so appealing. What if something goes wrong? Can he really get through this on his own?

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Sho says. “Don’t worry so much.”

It’s a good thing Minazuki can’t actually read his mind, isn’t it.

\---

Later, though. In the dim light of the dark. (They never really turn the lights out, here.) Sho stares at the far wall in silence.

_Can’t sleep?_

“You should know.” They always fall asleep and wake up together. Sho isn’t sure why, but he supposes it’s easier that way.

_I guess I should. Is something wrong?_

“Not really, just…” Sho sighs. “The personality thing.”

_Ah. That._

“You _are_ someone else, right? You’re not just me being crazy?”

_I think I’d know if I wasn’t._

Sho laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Isn’t that something I’d say to convince myself?”

_I don’t know what I am. All I remember is that you were scared and you needed me. What would change if I wasn’t real?_

“I don’t know. It’d just mean I’m even more messed up than I thought.”

_There is nothing wrong with you._

Hearing Minazuki say it makes it seem more real, somehow.

_Uehara doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’m here. If nobody understands that, that’s on them, not you. Having to keep me a secret is only a reflection of their idiocy._

Sho blinks. “I thought you were all about being polite to them?”

_Only while you need them. Once you don’t, they’re meaningless._

That sounds about right. It’s not like he plans to keep in contact with any of these people after he leaves. Minazuki would probably call it a ‘necessary irritant’.

“…yeah, okay,” Sho says. “Thanks, I guess.”

_You’re welcome. Get some sleep._

It still isn’t easy, but he manages it eventually.

\---

He manages to keep quiet around Uehara. She doesn’t bring it up again, but sometimes it looks like she wants to, like she’s looking for a reason. Well, he’s not going to give her one. She only asks the same basic questions and he only gives the same basic answers, and sometimes he has to choke back what he _wants_ to say, but Minazuki’s giving him some advice about how to do that. If someone says something stupid that doesn’t really require an answer, don’t say anything. If someone asks something stupid, respond with the absolute minimum and hope they stop.

It sure as hell isn’t easy. Having to bite back his frustration only makes it boil more inside him. Minazuki helps with that too, though, calm as ever, talking to him about what he’ll do when he gets out of here.

_Uehara said you could go to high school. That might be interesting. You’d learn a lot, there._

Sho makes a face. “There’d be so many people there. Probably even stupider than the ones here.”

_You’ll have to learn how to live in this world somehow. And there are many people in this world. According to Uehara, this town has fewer of them than most cities in this country. High school here would be a good starting point._

Sho puts his arm over his forehead and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t want to live in this world,” he says. “Everyone I’ve met in it is annoying.”

_I’m afraid there’s no alternative. You have to face the possibility that you’ll never be as strong as you once were. Even if there are still Shadows to fight, you might not be able to._

“I never fought Shadows in the first place, though. Since I never had a Persona.”

_Even more of a reason. Nobody will want someone who has neither the strength nor a Persona ability to fight. You need to make your own life._

His own life. He doesn’t have one, does he, without Ikutsuki. He doesn’t know anything ‘normal’ people would find useful.

He used to be useful. Ikutsuki liked him, he did, he must have, at least a little. He was good for something back then.

But in this shitty world, he isn’t good for anything. 

_You might learn how to do that at high school. Or at least you’d learn how to fake being like other people. That’s important too. They might even get used to you._

Sho snorts. “Yeah, they’re gonna see the scar and think, oh, that’s normal, everyone has those.”

_At any rate, you need to find something._

“Can’t I just take the money my dad left me and stay somewhere they won’t bother me?”

_You could, I suppose. But that would get boring very quickly._

Sho makes a frustrated noise. “This is all so stupid,” he says. 

_True. But we can’t do anything about that._

Sho wonders how much he would give, to be able to do something about that.

But it’s pointless to think about. This is the world he’s stuck in; he has to learn how to deal with it.

No matter how much he wishes he didn’t.

\---

The day he can walk a few steps on his own, without the handrails, is depressingly great. On one hand, this is apparently incredible progress, and a major step--so to speak--to getting out of here. On the other hand, the fact that it’s good at all is a sign of how shitty his circumstances are. Congratulations, you have basic motor functions. What a great accomplishment.

Uehara certainly seems happy about it, though Sho isn’t sure she’s completely dropped her theory. Just because she hasn’t mentioned it doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking about it. He can grudgingly admit that she isn’t a _complete_ moron, if she noticed things no one else seems to have, but that’s not really a good thing in this case. And she probably wouldn’t believe him if he told her what Minazuki really was. She’d just think he was crazy. Definitely not a good thing.

Takagi comes by for a rare visit, examining Sho’s chart. “You’ve been making quite the impressive progress, Minazuki-kun,” he says. “If it keeps up, you might regain full motor function in a few more months. That’s extremely rare. I’ve been wondering if I might ask you some questions about your recovery.”

“Like what?” Sho asks warily.

Takagi takes a seat on one of the chairs by the wall. “Has Uehara discussed the possibility of brain damage with you?”

Sho narrows his eyes. “She mentioned it,” he says in an icy voice. 

“Don’t worry, it’s still just a possibility for now. My larger interest is that perhaps your brain has been--let’s say _affected--_ by whatever it was that put you into that coma, and that that may in fact have been in your favor.”

“Get to the point,” Sho says. He’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“The brain is a mysterious thing. When damaged, it can sometimes unlock new aspects of itself. There are cases of people becoming fluent in other languages after sustaining brain damage, or reversing their personality, or acquiring tastes for different foods than before. There are two aspects that make your condition unusual, Minazuki-kun: the unknown nature of your coma, and your fast physical recovery. I’m wondering if they might be connected.”

“You think whatever knocked me out made me stronger,” Sho realizes. 

“Exactly. The brain has been known to affect the body in strange ways. Ultimately, what I’m getting at here is two questions.”

“…yeah?”

“Firstly. Can you tell us what caused your coma?”

Takagi’s eyes are bright, too bright. Eager. 

But Sho shakes his head, and watches the brightness dim a little. He doesn’t even really know himself, and he’s sure as hell not going to tell them anything about Ergo Research. 

“Very well. Secondly. Your father mandated that we not use any sort of x-ray, MRI, or CT scan on you. I’m sure he had his reasons, but since his mandates do not seem to be enforced by anything, we’ve decided to lift that restriction. Would you be willing to have an MRI taken?”

_Scanning your brain. That’s what he means. He wants to see if there’s anything special about it._

Sho isn’t sure about this. On one hand, he doesn’t want them to know about his past. On the other hand, this sounds like it might affect his future. What if they find something useful?

He’s pretty sure his recovery rate has more to do with his physical capabilities than anything special in his head. But he doesn’t know for sure. 

…it can’t hurt, can it? Really? When you get down to it?

“Sure,” he says, shrugging. “I guess. Do what you want.” 

_I’m not sure about this._

Takagi beams. “Excellent. We can have it ready for you this afternoon, if you’re up for it already.”

“Before therapy,” Sho says. Whatever’s going to happen, he’d rather go into it without complete exhaustion.

“Of course. I’ll see you later, Minazuki-kun.”

Takagi leaves with a spring in his step. “He’s way too excited about this,” Sho says.

_Yes, he is. I don’t like this. He barely came to see you before. He must have a reason for being so interested in you now._

“Maybe he ran out of other patients and got bored.”

_I suspect not._

“Whatever. Hey, do you know what this scan thing is exactly?”

_You lie down in a machine and wait for a while. It’s very noisy. I don’t think you’d like it._

“Guess we’ll find out later.”

Sho does feel a little wary, though. Why _is_ Takagi so interested?

\---

He’s fine with cramped spaces. But this feels too much like being in a coffin, trapped on your back with no room to move. The loud banging in his ears doesn’t help much either.

_I told you so._

“Shut up,” he mumbles, barely more than a whisper. He’s not sure if they can hear him.

The space isn’t uncomfortable, not really. Just…small. If the exit was blocked, he wouldn’t be able to escape, maybe not even at full strength. But he’s been through worse. At least it doesn’t hurt.

After a while, the noise stops and he hears the technician say, “All done here.” She pulls him out of the machine and helps him back into the wheelchair. Another person. Quiet and efficient. He hasn’t seen her exhibit any other qualities, so he can’t form much of an opinion on her. But she didn’t look at him strangely and she didn’t ask any questions, and that’s not so bad.

She doesn’t say anything as she takes him back to his room, either, other than “We’ll let you know the results later.” And then he’s back, almost as if nothing had happened.

_I still don’t like this. What are they looking for?_

“Who knows. Takagi didn’t seem to have anything in mind. Heh. Get it, in mi--”

_Yes, good job._

Physical therapy proceeds as usual, which is to say, awful, and Sho aches all over once it’s done. No progress today. There isn’t always. But it’s still frustrating to feel this shitty without any noticeable benefit.

“A few months, huh,” he says afterwards, wincing as he shifts on the bed to get comfortable. “Think that’ll be it? Just a few more months and I’m out?”

_I hope so. It shouldn’t be long before you can walk on your own. I don’t know their thoughts on running, though. Maybe they don’t think that’s important?_

“I guess not for most people. But I want to be able to move. Walking doesn’t mean much if you’re being chased.”

_Are you likely to be chased?_

“I’m just keeping my options open.”

\---

The following morning, Takagi enters with Uehara, carrying some papers on his clipboard. His face has an eager expression; hers, a cautious one. Sho doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Good morning, Minazuki-kun,” Takagi says with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“It was okay,” Sho says warily. “Is this about the MRI?”

“It is. Minazuki-kun, are you _sure_ you can’t tell us why you were in a coma?”

Sho’s irritation flares. “I’m sure,” he says. “What do you want?”

“Well, we found something very interesting in the results of the scan,” Takagi says. “Not what we were expecting at all. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary with your brain itself, but…have you undergone any major surgery you can remember?”

Major? Not _major,_ he doesn’t think. He never had any injuries worse than broken bones and internal bleeding. But he doesn’t like where this is going. “No,” he says.

“Then you may want to take a look at this,” Takagi says, and hands him one of the papers.

It’s a grayscale image of the inside of someone’s head. His, probably. But there’s something odd about it. Sho doesn’t know very much about biology, but he at least knows what a brain is supposed to look like, and they don’t typically have some sort of object lodged in them.

“As you can see, there’s something attached to your brain stem,” Takagi says, pointing his finger at the image. It looks sort of like a crystalline feather.

Sho stares at the image in his hands. He doesn’t remember anything like that. Was he born with it? Ikutsuki would have talked about it if he was. 

_…I recognize that._

“We’ve never seen anything like it before. The human body isn’t known to produce anything like this naturally, so we can only assume it was transplanted. What it does, we have no idea.”

_…I know what it does._

Sho can only stare. He doesn’t understand. If it was transplanted, then--then there’s only one person who could have done it, but…

He doesn’t remember Ikutsuki doing anything like that.

Takagi’s still talking. “It doesn’t seem to be interfering with any of your mental faculties. Honestly, it’s fascinating--far beyond our own technological capabilities. Which begs the question: what put it in there?”

“Takagi-sensei.” Uehara’s voice is quiet, but firm. “Minazuki-kun is not required to answer your questions.”

“Oh, come now, Sayoko,” Takagi says, seemingly surprised. “Didn’t we agree we aren’t required to follow Ikutsuki-san’s conditions?”

“I am required to care for my patients, Takagi-sensei. Are you even paying attention to the boy in front of you?”

Sho realizes his hands are shaking.

_It’s not dangerous. You don’t need to worry about that. You’re fine._

There’s something in his head and he doesn’t know why it’s there.

“He seems fine to me. Minazuki-kun, I really must know what you know about this. I understand if you want to keep your father’s secrets, but this could be key to discovering the nature of your condition.”

_It’s okay. We’ll talk about this once they’re gone. Stay calm._

It’s not anger he’s feeling. It’s a mixture of things--confusion, fear, a touch of panic. There’s something _in his head._ Ikutsuki must have put it there. Why doesn’t he remember that? 

The paper crinkles as his fingers clench.

“Minazuki-kun?”

“…I don’t…I don’t know anything,” Sho says hoarsely. “I don’t know what this is.”

“You don’t have to lie. Your father isn’t here. I really must insist--”

The paper slowly starts to tear.

 _“Takagi-sensei!”_ Uehara snaps. “Please leave. You’re distressing my patient.”

“There’s no need to take that tone, Sayoko. I realize it must be frustrating to know you won’t get any credit, but--”

The paper rips in half, breaking apart the image of his altered brain.

Takagi really should have visited more often, if he wanted to know his patient. His arm is within reach.

It happens too quickly for even Minazuki to realize it; as the torn paper falls onto Sho’s lap, his hands dart out and grab Takagi’s forearm and wrist, twisting with a grip like steel until the bone audibly snaps and Takagi’s hand falls at an unnatural angle. Takagi screams and pulls back, and Sho’s almost about to pull him in further and go for the throat when

_STOP._

Minazuki’s voice is like a tangible slam on Sho’s mind. He lets go and claps his hands over his ears, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth as he hisses in pain. 

Takagi falls back, and Uehara rushes to grab him. She stands stunned for a moment before taking him by the uninjured arm and forcing him out of the room, letting the door close behind her.

Sho feels like his head is going to split open. He unconsciously draws his knees up. It’s all just--it’s just--

Minazuki shoves him aside. “I understand,” Minazuki says, his voice grim. “This is not an easy situation. But you _cannot do that._ You may have just ruined your chance of leaving this place in a few months. I’m taking over before you can sabotage yourself any further.”

Sho can’t even say anything in response. Is there something physically wrong with him after all? Why would Ikutsuki do this?

Minazuki breathes in and out, slowly, deeply, lowering Sho’s frantic heartrate. “All right,” he says, once it’s improved enough. “Here’s what I know.”

And Minazuki relays a story about Personas, and hearts, and what Ikutsuki must have done to get what he wanted.

It’s almost a pretty name. Plume of Dusk. It did look like a feather, after all. 

“I am a shard of one who brings about death,” Minazuki says quietly. “I don’t know what that makes me. Not a Persona, certainly. Once I was transplanted into you, but did not manifest as a Persona, Ikutsuki must have abandoned the experiment. Perhaps it was the shock of the transplant that put you in a coma. When you awoke, so did I…and you know the rest.”

_Dad abandoned me because of this? And he just left it in me?_

Minazuki narrows his eyes. “Ikutsuki is very fortunate he is already dead,” he says.

_…why?_

“Because if he wasn’t, I’d murder him slowly.”

Sho doesn’t know what to say to that.

“He could have killed you with this,” Minazuki says, bitterness ringing in his voice. “He didn’t know for sure what would happen. Even if you did consent, you were too young to understand. If you only turned sixteen shortly after you woke up, then you were still fourteen when this happened. He put a piece of Death in the mind of a child on the off chance that it _might_ give him the weapon he wanted.”

Sho’s getting used to the idea that Ikutsuki was a shitty person. But he’s never heard Minazuki sound so coldly angry before.

“That man was a monster,” Minazuki says icily. “He deserved a far worse death than the one he got.”

The door opens, and Minazuki immediately stops talking. Uehara walks back into the room, looking immensely tired.

“I told Takagi-sensei to go to the stairwell and pretend he fell and landed on his wrist,” she says quietly. “I know some things he’d rather keep secret from his wife. You should be safe for now.”

Minazuki stays silent.

“Minazuki-kun…Sho. I can’t pretend to understand what’s going through your head. I think perhaps nobody here can.”

The smile on her face is sad, soft. “You need more help than I can give,” she says. “I don’t know how I can convince you to let me try. That thing in your head…if you say you don’t know what it is, then I believe you.”

Minazuki still doesn’t say anything.

Her smile turns a little more wry. “I _do_ believe that your father was a complete bastard,” she says. “Pardon my language.”

The corner of Minazuki’s mouth twitches.

“I just want you to know that you’re safe here,” Uehara says. “We’ll do whatever we can to help you. Whatever happened in the past is over now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Sho wants to believe her. Every fiber of his being craves what she’s offering. She’s always been nice to him, hasn’t she? All she wants him to do is heal. Sho’s never known anyone like her. Kosaka isn’t so bad either, really. Ono’s just scared. Takagi…well, Uehara’s made it clear what she thinks of him, which is another point in her favor.

But he doesn’t know how to be the kind of patient she wants. He ruins every step he makes. He can’t navigate her world. This world. This world full of people who talk about things that don’t mean anything and look at him like there’s something wrong with him.

_There’s plenty to be afraid of. Including me._

When Minazuki still stays silent, Uehara exhales and holds her clipboard to her tighter. “That’s all,” she says. “I’ll make sure no one else sees the scans.”

She turns to leave, but stops, and looks back at him, smiling faintly. “I wonder, if you spoke now, what voice you would have,” she says. 

And with Minazuki’s lack of response, she leaves.

“That may be a stroke of luck,” Minazuki says. “If she doesn’t plan on letting anyone know what happened, the damage may be minimal after all.”

_Except to Takagi._

“True.”

_I just…_

Sho doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“It’s not your fault,” Minazuki says firmly. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t blame you for reacting to the things this world throws at you. Sometimes I think…” He sighs. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

_What’s going to happen now?_

“That’s probably up to Uehara. She took the images with her. If she does as she says, things may return to the way they were.”

_…will you let me out if they do?_

Minazuki’s mouth twists. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says.

_Oh. Okay._

Sho mostly just feels sort of numb, now. The rush of emotion has worn off. There’s nothing he can do about anything. It’s probably better to let Minazuki take control for now. Maybe for a while. Maybe for a long while.

_…I guess we know where you come from now._

“It would seem so.”

_Hey._

“Hm?”

_I’m sorry._

“So am I.”

\---

Minazuki’s never been in charge for so long before. The next day, Uehara doesn’t ask him any questions that can’t be answered with a nod or a shake of the head. Kosaka comments on how quiet Sho is, but doesn’t seem bothered by it. It goes on like that for three days. Three days of near silence.

Sho curls up inside his head. He barely speaks, and neither does Minazuki. It’s been nine months since it was so quiet inside him.

On the fourth day, when Uehara enters the room, she says, “I burned the scans.”

Minazuki glances up at her. He doesn’t say anything.

“That should be enough to prove that I’m willing to keep a secret for you. Takagi was planning to write a paper, but that’s off the table now, and no one else knows about what happened. So. You can talk to me, if you want. I’m not going to recommend you be sent to another hospital. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Minazuki stays silent for a few more moments before saying, “You’re putting a lot of trust in someone who broke a man’s wrist for showing him some pictures.”

Uehara gives a wry smile. “Hello again, whoever you are,” she says. “I don’t suppose you have a name?”

“I am Minazuki.”

“…well, that’s easy to remember, at least,” Uehara says, raising an eyebrow. She takes a seat. “I did some research on dissociative identity disorder,” she says. “Generally, it isn’t harmful. Instances of an alternate personality being the more stable one don’t seem to be common. Treatment is needed when the subject displays violent behavior as a result of their unstable emotions, but since that seems to be the opposite of your case…well.”

“This boy sometimes has difficulty,” Minazuki says calmly. “I even it out, when needed.”

“As I’ve seen. Can you tell me when you started appearing?”

“Shortly after he awoke here. I was needed, so I came.”

“I see. And of course you can’t give me any more details.”

Minazuki shakes his head.

“Of course,” she says, sighing. “One of the suspected causes of the disorder is trauma from abuse,” she says. She hesitates. “There are some indelicate questions I could ask you about your childhood,” she says quietly. “But I don’t think you’d answer.”

Minazuki doesn’t say anything.

Neither does Sho.

Silence rings in the room before Uehara drops the subject. “Can I talk to Sho?” she asks.

“He won’t be coming out for a while,” Minazuki says, looking her straight in the eye. “I consider it my own failure that he went as far as he did. I assure you, he won’t trouble you again.”

“That…isn’t comforting, actually,” Uehara says, frowning slightly. “Sho is my patient. I want to know if he’s safe.”

“He’ll be fine. Any harm that comes to this boy will not be from me.” Minazuki narrows his eyes. “It will, however, have me to answer to.”

Uehara laughs, just a little. “If you have a grip like that even while you’re still recovering, I don’t want to get on your bad side,” she says.

“That is a very good idea.”

“So.” Uehara folds her hands in her lap. “If Sho doesn’t know anything about the object in his head, does that mean you don’t either?”

“…it is not harming him,” Minazuki says. “That’s all you need to know.”

“More things you can’t talk about, I see. Is that your decision, or your father’s?”

Minazuki stiffens. “That does not concern you,” he says coldly.

Uehara puts up her hands. “Forgive me,” she says, and she sounds genuinely regretful. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“All I’m trying to do here is figure out what Sho needs,” Uehara says, lowering her hands. “Once he leaves the hospital, he’ll be on his own. Or, well, with you, I guess.” She laughs for a moment before her face turns somber again. “If he needs psychological help, he may find living life outside this bubble difficult. Can you honestly say you can care for him on your own?”

“Yes,” Minazuki says simply.

“May I ask why you think you’re better-suited to the job than any actual medical professional?”

“This place has done an admirable job healing this boy’s body,” Minazuki says. “But I have seen little evidence that anyone here can handle him at his worst. Whether that is due to his nature or your own incompetence, I’m not yet sure. But whatever his mental condition is, I don’t trust any of you to deal with it properly. At best, you will try to treat him for diseases he does not have. At worst, you will do more damage to him than I ever could.”

That probably isn’t true, Sho realizes, from deep inside his mind. Minazuki could do whatever he wanted to him, and Sho wouldn’t be able to stop him. 

It’s a very good thing, isn’t it, that Minazuki is on his side.

For a moment, he wonders what it would have been like if the transplant hadn’t sent him into a coma, if Minazuki would have been just as brainwashed by Ikutsuki as he was, but the thought sickens him, so he shoves it away.

“Diseases he doesn’t have,” Uehara repeats. “Like the one I mentioned? Are you saying he doesn’t have that?”

Minazuki says nothing.

Uehara smiles, a little sadly. “Sho Minazuki, you are a mystery,” she says.

“And if that makes him safe, I will do my best to keep it that way.”

Uehara stands up. “I have the feeling you won’t answer any more of my questions,” she says. “Or at least not the important ones. But at least the answers you did give were enlightening. Have a good day, both of you--apparently the kitchen’s doing flan today, if you like that.”

“…he doesn’t dislike it.”

Uehara’s smile is a little sunnier. “See you later, boys,” she says, waving as she leaves.

_That went okay, didn’t it?_

“It did. Though I still think she wouldn’t understand.”

_I don’t know if anyone would understand._

“Precisely. At least she doesn’t seem to be a threat. That may be all you can ask for.”

_I guess._

_…hey, Minazuki?_

“Yes?”

_How do crazy people go through the forest?_

“How?”

_They take the psycho path._

“Very good.”

\---

Takagi doesn’t come back.

\---

Uehara’s cover-up must have worked, though, because the one time Kosaka mentions Takagi, he doesn’t seem to suspect a thing.

“Did you hear about Takagi-sensei?” Kosaka asks, during a break. “Damn shame.”

Minazuki nods, not really paying attention, focusing on his breathing.

“Yeah, I figured Uehara-san would tell you. Should’ve been more careful, I suppose. I know I’ll watch myself on the stairs these days.”

And that’s that.

\---

Uehara doesn’t visit as often. She doesn’t need to, since he’s recovered enough to be able to move around on his own. He still stays in the room, though. The thought of willingly being around the other people in this place doesn’t appeal.

He’s run out of interesting books. The TV hasn’t changed. Minazuki doesn’t seem to mind the lack of activity, but Sho paces around in his mind, restless.

 _There’s nothing to do here,_ he complains for the somethingth time; he doesn’t keep track of how often. _I don’t know how anyone stands it._

“Most people have friends and family visiting,” Minazuki says. “Or they only stay a few days. I don’t think anyone else here has stayed as long as you have.”

_Friends and family, huh. Good for them. I’m sure they yammer at each other to their heart’s content._

“Most people like that, I think.”

_Most people are idiots._

“…well, I don’t disagree with you there.”

There’s been a slow change in Minazuki. At first he was all for cooperation and politeness, but that seems to have worn down to viewing others as only having meaning if they’re useful to Sho. Even then, he’s developed a disdain.

Sho once ventures that Uehara isn’t so bad, since she helped him.

“She didn’t like Takagi. It was an excuse to shut him up. And this is her job, anyway. She’s getting paid for it.”

_Oh. That makes sense, yeah._

It takes about a month for Minazuki to decide Sho can come back out for a while.

“This is your body, after all,” he says. “I’m just a passenger. And you can make your own decisions, anyway. You should learn how to do that.”

Sho’s almost suspicious when Minazuki steps aside and lets him go in front again, but he’s grateful, too. He flexes his fingers. “I still probably shouldn’t hurt anyone, right?” he says.

_Right. You haven’t fully recovered yet._

It’s about a month after that, when Sho can walk down the hallway without assistance, when Uehara drops by with some paperwork.

“We’ve been thinking about this for a while, and the hospital’s decided to use some of your money to get you an apartment,” she says. “You’ll need a place to go when you leave, and you can’t exactly go house-hunting while you’re still here. But we do need your permission for that, so can you please sign here?”

She puts one of the documents in front of him. He hasn’t written anything in over a year, much less his name, but there’s enough muscle memory for him to scrawl it out anyway. It probably looks okay. 

“Great, thank you. We’ve also gotten you enrolled in Yasogami High. Normally there are some extra requirements, but…well, you’re the definition of special circumstances.”

She smiles like it’s a good thing for him to go. Sho immediately decides not to. He probably still doesn’t know half the stuff the other kids take for granted, and they’d all be morons anyway. Why bother? It’d just piss him off. He doesn’t need more reasons.

But he doesn’t tell her that, of course.

That day, in therapy, Kosaka tells him the hospital probably would have released him by now, if things were different.

“Why?” Sho demands. If they think he’s good enough to leave and they just aren’t letting him--

“You’d still need a caretaker,” Kosaka says. Sho falls silent. “With no family, and no other contacts, there isn’t anyone to watch out for you while you recover at home. It’s too risky. Keeping you a while longer, until we’re sure you can take care of yourself, is the best option.”

Sho has to admit that that’s true. He doesn’t want anyone interfering with his life, anyway. If this is what it takes to get him strong enough that he genuinely doesn’t need any help…

…it still drives him insane, but at least he can deal with it.

\---

A month later, it finally happens.

Release papers are signed. Everything’s approved. Sho doesn’t get even a little tired after moving around for hours at a time. It’s _done._

It’s been almost a year to the day, and it’s finally, finally, fucking _done._

Uehara gives him some normal clothes to change into, and a school uniform, too. They’re a relief after that damn hospital gown. 

And then he’s outside. 

Bright sun. The sounds of cars on the nearby road. It’s even a little warm out, so he takes off the uniform jacket and ties it around his waist.

There’s a car waiting to take him to his apartment. He’s never been in a car before. Or an apartment building, or a _town,_ with thousands of people, all of them pointless. That’s all that’s waiting for him. A life of nothing.

 _Hello, world,_ Minazuki says. _Let’s see what disappointments you have in store._

Sho can hardly fucking wait.

\---

The car ends up almost running out of gas once they hit the town proper, the driver apologizing and stopping at a gas station to fill it up again before proceeding. Incompetence already. Delightful.

The driver says it’ll be a few minutes, so Sho gets out of the car and leans against it, staring out at the street in front of him. Long rows of stores. People walking around, young and old, wearing clothes and colors he’d never seen until a year ago. Mindless chatter in the air.

He hears a voice off to the side, and turns to see a woman in a uniform waving at him. “Welcome to Moel,” she says. “You new around here? I haven’t seen you before.” She holds out her hand to him.

Sho gives her a death glare. She backs off with an apologetic grin. “Sorry, sorry,” she says. “Just trying to be friendly, jeez. Welcome to Inaba, I guess.”

Oh, it’s gonna be a _great_ life here, he can tell.


End file.
